White Waters and Burnt Bridges
by Melancholia That Got Away
Summary: Charles had spent a great deal of time pleading to Erik.


Angst in ExC Sharp

Charles had spent a great deal of time pleading to Erik.

Events are not in any chronological order whatsoever.

Did you ever think of me,  
As your best friend.

**I.**

Being with Erik was many things at once – from glorious to tedious. It wasn't just that this man, this fellow mutant, was really the first mutant he'd encountered – after Raven, of course – though it did play a tiny role. It was _Erik._ Who had a brilliant mind, compartmentalized and so analytical and yet so mind-blowingly chaotic at the same time, so full of _rage_.

All in all, being with Erik was a rather ground-breaking experience.

With Erik there came, of course, a plethora of arguments because they disagreed so fundamentally – "_Mein Gott, Charles, we're at the gates of human evolution and we are the superior ones, don't you understand?" _

They were innocent at first, or as much as innocent can get in this world, and it left them both pretty much exhausted and _drunk_ most of the time and _this_ is when it all _really_ started. In the heat of a very drunk verbal battle.

Charles wasn't too sure who initiated it – not that it honestly mattered in that moment or in retrospect – but they were kissing, the world was melting away and the way Erik was pinning him against the wall was so incredibly _hot_ it left him weak in the knees.

And even through his inebriated mind, he inexplicably felt that urge to tell Erik (to plead, actually) to _give your heart a chance to feel, to love, Christ, Erik give it all away_.

_Please._

**II.**

The first time he heard Erik, it was…

He couldn't really put it into words because it was more _feeling_ than thought. A pure, raw feeling that was actually a mix of _hateragerevengevictory_ and _I'm almost there_ was the clearest thing he could get from between the dark cloud of thoughts, almost like seeing lightning in the middle of a storm.

And this was quite overwhelming after he had just lost Shaw's mind, protected as it was by a telepath he hadn't expected. He didn't know how powerful she was but she had certainly had surprise on her side.

And then this new set of thoughts appeared like a beacon of light amidst deep pits of black –literally and figuratively – and what could he do but run out towards it? And as he realized that that new mind was in the water, that that new mind would most likely drown, he was filled with the conviction to _save him can't let you drown can't let you kill yourself doing this_.

The water was cold – and later he would realize how silly it had been to jump into the water like that, when he was shivering in the cold – but it was _worth it_. And here was Erik, angrily tugging, _pulling_ at the edges of his power, desperately holding unto the submarine as if it were his lifeline while it was most likely to kill him – kill them both.

_You can't. You'll drown. I know what this means to you but you're going to die_.

His arms had wrapped around a lithe body –but strong, so strong – holding on with all of his strength.

_Please, Erik._

They struggled, this man – _Erik –_ he didn't want to let go, _Shaw was so close, so close_ and he would hold on no matter the cost and this new _hindrance_ that was holding him back was only fuelling his rage because he _had to get Shaw_. But Charles would fight too, needed to fight because he couldn't let go of him.

_Calm your mind._

And somehow, _somehow_, it seemed to work – or distracted him because they pulled up, spluttering and "Let go of me!"

"We're here!" Charles yelled. God, he hoped they found them – he was suddenly acutely aware of the cold, now that he wasn't _fighting_ to keep Erik from drowning. Now that he wasn't holding Erik anymore.

"Who are you?"

The distrust was oozing off of him and Charles didn't really need his telepathy to know that. "My name's Charles Xavier."

"You were in my head!" he still wasn't calm, far from it; that rage still simmering and now directed at him, but there was that underlying confusion, the surprise. "How'd you do that?"

"You have your tricks, I have mine." The water was all around them and he had gulped quite a lot of it. "I'm like you, just _calm your mind_."

Erik panted, looking down away, bewildered and…hopeful? It was all in a flash and Charles' ears were ringing, both of them were suddenly exhausted.

"I thought I was alone."

It sounded so vulnerable, so broken and Charles had the urge to hug him, to protect him just like he had protected Raven all these years, to blanket him because _God, no, you're not alone, never alone_ and he told Erik so.

(He thought of this vividly again, many years later because in spite of everything, those words hadn't kept Erik dry and he felt like he failed because _oh, now there's no way back from the things you, we, have done_ and it's never going to be alright).

**III.**

After their first kiss, their first time, other kisses came like floods – at least, at night they did. At night when the kids were asleep, even Hank, who had a tendency to stay up beyond what should be humanly possible (but they weren't exactly _human_, were they?).

There'd be chess and scotch but then they'd gravitate to each other like moths to a flame and it got to be the highlight of their day – night – those light touches, caresses and all the exhaustion of that day's training was forgotten in favour of exploring vast expanses of skin. The night before their mission to Cuba was no different.

Except that it was.

There was something, _something_, not too desperate but an inkling of a feeling, perhaps fear or trepidation but it drove them. It was different, so different, as Erik took his hands, pulled Charles to him and they kissed.

And deep inside something shook Charles, had him feeling weak but it wasn't just the kiss, or the way Erik wrapped his arms around his waist – no, it was something else – _I don't want to lose him_, he realized as he gripped at Erik's shoulders.

**IV.**

Ships had long since been sailed, things had changed drastically and they had long since crashed and burned. And here they were, standing across each other, months after Cuba.

It was raining down on them, a sad reflection of how he felt – and Charles was willing to bet that Erik was breaking too.

Erik hadn't known about the wheelchair and the way his surprise sprang to his face before being shuttered away was telling. Charles wasn't sure what Erik was doing here – that _helmet_ – but Raven – Mystique now, apparently – must've told him after he'd allowed her to visit her brother.

The last few months suddenly felt like a lifetime. Seeing Erik again felt like pain and joy had melded into one thing.

"Erik..." he'd intended to sound a bit more self-assured, a bit more kept together but failed spectacularly. Not that he minded much, especially not when it seemed to hit Erik hard and the metalkinetic seemed to _fold_, to even break a little, going down on his knees before Charles.

"_Gott_, Charles…"

Erik was crying and shaking all over his lap and Charles could feel his heart _twist_ as he laid his hands on top if the helmet – so cold and hard, he would have loved to touch Erik's hair but no – and Erik suddenly jerked away.

_Please Erik " _–Stay…" he whispered hoarsely.

Erik looked at him brokenly but again and again he shut off completely and it was worse than getting shot in his goddamn _spine_, his chest was burning – _please, stay just stay goddamnit, stay with me_ but Erik didn't.

**V.**

There were moments Charles nearly tripped over himself trying not to read Erik's mind beyond the occasional louder thoughts. He wanted to, god, he wanted to but a promise was a promise and he wasn't one to go back on his promises.

It did make his interactions with Erik seem a bit more genuine – adventurous even – because this was a way to discover a person but…

Sometimes he felt like it was so superficial because there were little things he didn't know, things he should know, deeper things he had always been privy to, things he couldn't imagine and Erik kept them so tightly locked up and Charles would be lying if he said it didn't frustrate him, that it didn't drive him absolutely up the wall.

Everyone has things they need to get off their chest and Erik was in no way an exception to the rule. And Charles knew that by not reading his mind that he had gained a fragile line of Erik's trust, which was more the most people could say.

But still, sometimes he just _wished_ –

**VI**

He had become immeasurably stronger, light-years away and better than what Shmidt had ever tried to make him and Erik knew very well that, all of this, he owed to one man.

Charles.

Without the telepath he would have never even have dreamed of reaching this point, this focus and _Gott_, he owed Charles so much that he couldn't even begin but it had all blown away. After all these years he still couldn't pass the pang he felt when he thought of Charles and how patient the telepath had been with him; it had dulled but only a bit. Charles had been, from the very beginning – still was – a fire in his soul and that fire had grown, never desisting until eventually, even after their…_break_, he was forced to acknowledge it.

Normally he wouldn't be thinking like this, would perhaps admit it in the recesses of his mind – never let the thought linger – but now he was alone in a plastic cage, which was depressing enough as it was, and he was away from all responsibilities that would preoccupy his mind.

_I will always love you_, Charles had said once.

Erik had never been able to utter the words, they had gotten stuck in his throat even when he realized what the sharp pain in his chest meant.

And even when Jean killed him savagely, Erik could only call out his name.

Did I ever think of you,  
As my enemy.


End file.
